The day after I wrote “breaking my will” to Master, He came over. We spent the afternoon together…having sex interlaced with a deep discussion of how I felt lost and stuck.

“You still can control; you just don’t want to,” He tells me. I knew deep down what He was saying was true, but it was nothing like how I was feeling at this point in time.

I had a few orgasms asking for permission to cum each time and then He told me to cum. My body responded and came – seemingly bypassing my brain again. I started to cry and lamented out loud, “What is happening to me?”

He let me cry, providing that energetic shield of love and support to allow me to fully experience the feelings.

When I calmed down, He asked, “Do you feel damaged?”

“No…I wonder if I’m being brainwashed,” I replied. As much as I desire this, the part that worries and protects me from “being tricked” has been surfacing.

He laid on top of me as He has done so many times over the years. Not once has His weight on top of me been an issue…until that day. He was fucking me, and the weight of His body started to feel like it was crushing me. I couldn’t breathe and started hyperventilating. I felt like He was sinking into me. I was letting Him in at every level – physically, emotionally, mentally, spiritually – and I panicked like I was suffocating. He got off me, and I’m crying loudly and trying to catch my breath. He caressed me, and I slowly calmed down. When I’ve finally caught my breath, and I’m breathing as normally as possible, He tells me how hard my crying made Him. Hearing that comforted me because I realized I wasn’t falling apart; I was falling right into Him.

“I feel like I’m dying,” I say.

“Do you feel like you’ll go away?” He asks.

“No, I feel like a part of me is dying.” I answer.

“Is that a good thing?”

“Yes.”

“What will happen when that part dies?”

“Well, I don’t know if this fits your definition, but I’ll be your slave.”

He started fucking me again, and I started hyperventilating again. I asked Him not to get off me completely, although He did rise up enough not to be resting on my chest. I was trying not to push the panic away…to just let it be there.

After resting in each other’s arms for a while, we got up off the bed. He did say that once I’ve calmed down and accepted this, I’d be His slave. It was hard to believe I might be close. As much as I’ve wanted to rush the process in the past, I was getting the importance and significance of being in this moment, and my need to rush it had receded.

As He left, He told me I was now on masturbation restriction – that I would have to ask permission each and every time I wanted to masturbate. He explained how this would require forethought on my part to get permission – say before bedtime.

I smiled and for the first time in the weeks since cumming on command, I felt an inner calm.

This is an e-mail I sent to Master sharing with him my internal struggles about cumming on command…

~~~~~~~~~~

I shared that I had a tough time last weekend, and you asked me why it was so tough. It’s hard for me to pinpoint. I know that during the weekend my attitude was, “Fuck it!” and I just proceeded to do what I thought I wanted. Of course, I didn’t feel good at the end.

It seems cliche to say I was grabbing for control (although eating disorders have a lot to do with that). I have felt lost since cumming on command. Actually, I’ve felt schizophrenic. On one hand, I am calm and fine; on the other, I am panicking. At any one moment, I can be feeling one or the other. I feel like I’ve been teetering on the line of two worlds…with the question, “Which one am I going to choose?

The part of me that panics is not worried about the idea of cumming on command, but the experience was totally different than what I expected. It was so…automatic. My brain was thinking, “I’m not ready yet,” and my body said differently. In some ways, it felt like I wasn’t even there…but it was me…and it just ends up being so confusing.

It’s easy to get caught up in the romantic notions of surrendering…”my will is His will.” Even in the vanilla world, mushy notions of being one with your partner is the stuff of wedding vows and Hallmark cards. Yet now – having had a taste of truly surrendering my will – I shake my head a bit that people (including me) don’t seem to understand the depth of what they are asking for when they say that. Don’t get me wrong, the idea is no less beautiful or no less desired – it is just one thing to think you want to be One with someone and another to experience it.

On other slave blogs or posts to groups on FetLife there is talk about ideas like, “Am I really a slave?” These conversations often center around the fact that in our society, a person cannot be legally owned by another. So really, if a slave decided, “This is it. I don’t want to play anymore” there is nothing legally binding a person to stay. What strikes me about these conversations is that it seems wonderful to create a world where your will becomes another’s but really…isn’t this just a world we create that is separate from reality?

I’ve been happily going down this path toward slavery, and I do so badly want my will to be broken. Yet, I realize now that I always thought that my choice would still be involved. I thought that breaking my will would involve me somehow aligning my choices with yours but – that as much as we could fantasize about me being owned by You – that as a human in a free society my brain would still have to make the conscious choice to do as You say or be as You want me to be. You could command me to do certain things, but – in the end – I would still have to make the choice to follow.

So when my body obeyed and my mind seemed to be bypassed, I was stunned. And then when I masturbated and couldn’t cum or just had weak orgasms, I really panicked. My brain is thinking one thing, and my body is doing another. It’s scary…and it’s nothing like how I thought breaking my will would look like.

I write a weekly update to Master summarizing my progress on certain, ongoing assignments. It is also a place where I can let him know how I am doing (good or not so good).

After I had trouble cumming at all on my own after cumming on command, I had an assignment to masturbate every day for one week. Orgasms weren’t required, just to enjoy the experience. This is an excerpt from an update on that assignment…

~~~~~~~~~~

Like I said on the phone, my masturbation Wednesday and Thursday didn’t yield any orgasms. My masturbation sessions were short the past two days. On Wednesday, I did pull out the vibrator. I got aroused immediately (very wet). I felt myself come up to the edge very quickly and then fizzled again. I know orgasm is not the goal of this assignment, but it is very frustrating to be so aroused so quickly and then have the climax be so anti-climatic. Thursday night, I really wasn’t in the mood to masturbate. I played with my nipples for about 5 minutes before falling asleep. It will probably be something similar tonight.

I’ve been journaling this week, but – kind of like masturbating and not climaxing – it doesn’t seem to bring me the relief I’d like. I kind of feel lifeless – neither upset or excited…just apathy. It’s actually hard to pinpoint any one feeling, which is frustrating unto itself. The best words I can come up with are stunned and disoriented. I honestly feel lost, and I’m not quite sure how to deal with this….

I posted to FetLife last night asking about others’ experiences/reactions to cumming on command.

I got so mad at one response where the guy liked it and wanted more “stories.” This is my life, dammit!…not some show for your entertainment.

I was getting dressed this morning and sat down on the bed for a moment. “What am I feeling?” I asked myself.

Stunned…and I feel turned around. I’ve fantasized about our wills becoming one, but I didn’t realize this is what it meant.

Nothing/emptiness – that empty feeling after He fucked me to more orgasms than I thought were possible. He’s touching that place that I’ve longed for Him to touch. I find myself feeling very passive…let Him reach that place. My job is to be open and to let Him in.

Being an object – part of me fears my brain is being bypassed. I know it is not in this case but this experience is making me rethink what it means to be an object. I guess there’s an implication with the word object that an object is inanimate. As His object, I am not inanimate at all…I am an extension of Him…an object as valuable to His being as His own soul. Object is sometimes used to mean lack of worth, and this is not the case at all. The sheer intimacy of it makes it valuable…to both of us.

I understand my will vs. His will and Master/slave in a totally different way after this experience. I didn’t expect Him to be in me like this. I’m not panicking that it happened; I’m just trying to orient myself. I always figured aligning our wills (more specifically mine to His) would always be about me making a choice to follow Him. The idea that my responses, my actions would be so automatic, so part of the very fabric of my being…didn’t occur to me.

…and now the fact that I’m having a hard time cumming on my own…it is just jarring to be on the other side of this and trying to orient myself to an idea I had no idea was the intended outcome.

Last Friday was the one year anniversary of Master collaring me.

I almost didn’t remember the date. I was browsing through some older blog entries this past week, and that’s when I realized the anniversary was approaching.

It’s hard to believe it’s been a year.

I never did blog (or even journal privately) about being collared. I wanted (and intended) to, but it was difficult because I was embarrassed about the way I acted that night.

Two nights before Master collared me, I wrote break my will as a private message to Him. It was the culmination of slowly wearing the unlocked collar more and more until I was wearing it full time. I had so many fears about what people would think and doubts about whether I was ready. Writing and asking Him to break my will was very freeing. I’d fantasized about Him forcefully locking the collar. When He responded so positively to break my will, I imagined that not only would He lock the collar, but this fantasy of having Him forcefully take me would come true.

He called that Thursday night and asked if He could come over. It was about 8:30 pm, and His call caught me off guard. Butterflies filled my stomach as I waited for Him to arrive.

He calmly pulled my hair to the side and locked the collar. I told Him I wanted to fight Him…trying to figure out how to make this fantasy of Him forcefully claiming me to come true without it being too contrived. He heard my request and answered by telling me to lay down on the bed.

I’ve often laid naked in front of Master in this position, but I never felt as exposed and vulnerable as I did in that moment. He caressed my body as tears started to trickle down my face. He asked me what I was thinking, and I could not form the words. It’s still hard to put into words what I was feeling in that moment. The embarrassment of trying to provoke a more forceful scenario had set in, but I also couldn’t believe the moment I’d longed for was here.

He marked me as His own by giving me bruises on my breasts and my thighs. I honestly don’t remember if He gave me the bruises with His hand or some other object. I remember admiring them the next day as I do when He marks me. Bruises, however, fade; now I was wearing a mark that wouldn’t fade: His collar.

He didn’t fuck me, but He did have me suck his cock. I welcomed the opportunity to just serve and be (rather than thinking) in that moment.

As He was leaving, we were talking and then hugging. In response to some of what we were talking about, He told me I needed to remember I was the bottom in this relationship. My forehead crinkled with confusion because – of course – I am the bottom. Little did I realize or know in that moment that I still had a lot to learn or – to be precise – more to let go.

This first anniversary comes on the heels of me having my first experience of cumming on command. I’m still trying to reconcile that experience for myself. The steps to relinquishing control feel very out of control – at least in the initial moments.

It’s been two-and-a-half weeks since Master commanded me to cum. Afterwards, He took me off restriction but I asked to be kept on. I have not had an orgasm on my own since.

He did fuck me this last Friday. I came, but it felt difficult. He gave me permission to cum wihtout asking while He was inside me. I’m not sure if it counts as on my own, but it felt like I was still under His control and only having orgasms when He says.

I asked to masturbate today. He granted it, and now I can’t cum. I get to the edge, and I fizzle.

I feel numb. I’m not sure how I feel about cumming on command.

When it happened, I remember feeling surprise. I held my breath for a moment. As I close my eyes now, I see me as if I were a spectator watching Master fuck me. I distinctly remember thinking, “What is my pussy doing?” as if I were asking about another woman next to me.

I just look at “her” in amazement. “How did she do that?,” I wonder. “How did she let Him do that?” like she has something special about her that I do not…but I covet her ability, and I envy her.

How can I be having these thoughts and feelings about me? I’m looking at her like she has some special skill that I don’t have…except it was me that experienced this. The one who has the ability to do this is me.